Below Zero
by fastandsexy
Summary: Bucky Barnes. That's the name that sends Steve across the Atlantic Ocean, scrabbling to find the pieces of the past and recover his best friend. He finds something else instead, something he never thought he'd get- a second chance.
1. Chapter 1

Quick AN- This story is a disgrace to the MCU's established sequence of events. I'd like to apologize now, and to offer a somewhat reasonable explanation by saying this story is an AU set after Age of Ultron where the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier did not occur. Hopefully that works. :) Thank you for reading, PLEASE like and comment. Thanks again, and enjoy!

Chapter One: A New Popsicle for SHIELD's Collection

Captain Steve Rogers strolled down the hallway of the Avenger's base, smoothing the sleeve of his suit. His shield was clipped to his back, faintly glimmering in the morning light. He scratched the short stubble growing on his chin, then ran his hand through his hair. With a stifled yawn, he turned a corner, barely avoiding a collision with Wanda Maximoff.

"Whoa!" Steve exclaimed, stopping short of plowing her over. She jerked to a stop as well, her eyes wide in surprise. The cup of coffee she was carrying jolted out of her hands, tumbling to the ground. Before it could get there, she reflexively dropped her hand and caught the spill with a force field.

"i'm sorry" He apologized, impressed by the reflex action. "Nice catch, though."

She offered a quick half smile, flicking her wrist to turn the cup right side up and send the liquid back into it.

"Thank you. Where are you headed this morning?" She asked, plucking the styrofoam container out of the air.

"Heading out with Tony to check on some reported sightings." He lied, smiling at her. Heading out with Tony was true, but their mission was actually a bit more complicated.

"Ah." She nodded. "Tell Stark I said hi. Well, actually," she made a face, "Don't."

Steve laughed. "It was nice bumping into you." He slipped past her, anxious to get going.

"See you later." She called, before turning around and continuing on her way.

HE felt a little bit guilty for lying to her, but it needed to be done. There was no doubt in Steve's mind that he could trust her, but he didn't have time to explain the whole story. And he didn't want her to ask questions to the wrong people.

Almost exactly two months earlier, an attacker had killed two council members and injured a third one. The next day, Steve had seen news coverage of the incident. He'd been at his apartment with Nat and Clint, playing cards, when the story came on. Shushing the rowdy pair, he watched the anchorwoman give the name, age, and profession of the victims.

"Did you know about this?" Steve asked them, gesturing towards the television screen. Nat and Clint shared a look of unease, and then Nat was fumbling for the remote.

"Of course not!" Clint reassured him, trying to draw his attention away from the TV. It didn't work. Steve was still staring at the screen when the photo of the suspect came up. The anchorwoman was still talking, but none of the words registered with him. He stared blankly, trying to connect the dots. It couldn't be. The man in the photo was dead. Long gone. Way too late, Nat found the remote and smashed the channel button, turning it to Food Network.

"Bucky?" Steve whispered in shock, glancing from the red haired assassin to the guilty looking archer. "Did you know about this?" He said again, more angrily. Neither of the guilty party spoke.

"It can't be him. He fell- I was there."

"SHIELD is after him. They've known for a while now. It's him, Steve."

"Do they have DNA? Fingerprints?" Steve was in disbelief. He saw Bucky fall. His best friend was dead, this had to be a mistake.

"Yes." Nat said softly. "It's definitely him. Hydra got him. The brainwashed him, broke down his mind. He's been linked to over one hundred unsolved murders since he disappeared. SHIELD's known for a while."

Steve was astonished and infuriated. He opened his mouth, ready to scream at them, angry for not being told sooner. Instead, after a pause, he surprised himself.

"We need to find him and help him, before SHIELD does." Steve set his jaw. He could be angry later.

"It won't be easy." Clint warned, and Steve nodded.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

The next day a small task force was assembled. Steve, Nat, Clint, and Tony began their search, looking through every file that could potentially contain a trace of Bucky. The were assuming Fury had already gotten to all the obvious information. Tony was working on tracking down SHIELD's file on Bucky through their encrypted online database, but Steve had a sneaking suspicion that the information was in physical form. It took two months of searching, but Steve finally found a lead. He had borrowed a couple boxes of stolen Hydra files from one of SHIELD's storage facilities. The boxes were marked Base 024. They were mostly empty. Steve had been reluctant about taking them, because they weren't dusty like everything else in the warehouse had been. He figured that any information he could use would already be gone. He was wrong. Inside the last box, stacked between a blueprint of the Hydra base and an old map of Northern Europe was half a page torn from some kind of report. There was a scribble on the back in some kind of cursive handwriting that Steve couldn't begin to understand. It looked like it was in another language straight from hell. Fortunately, the front was printed in t good ol' English.

 _Feb 26, 1947. Cryogenic chamber with American located in storeroom 2._

It wasn't much to go on, but they could still be keeping Bucky there. And if they weren't, he might still find something helpful. It's not like the flight would be a bother to Tony, who had been complaining of boredom less than a week after they had cleaned up his Ultron mess. Base 024 was located in Sweden, in the mountains. SHIELD had found it through satellite imaging years back, but never investigated it fully. None of the team expected to find much there, but it could provide a much needed clue.

Now, after searching for months, armed only with his small scrap of hope, Steve approached the quinjet. His collected exterior didn't betray the apprehension he felt inside. This would either wind up being a dead end, or he was going to find Bucky very soon. He wasn't quite prepared for either outcome. In his mind, Bucky was still dead. Taking a deep breath, Steve glanced up at the blue sky, feeling the warm sun on his face. He would find his best friend one way or another. Squaring his shoulders, he entered the small jet.

"Ready to go?" Tony asked, when he entered, turning the pilot's chair around to face him.

"As I'll ever be." Steve answered quietly.

"That's the spirit." Tony crowed sarcastically.

Ignoring his friend, Steve made his way back to his seat, crouching to avoid bumping his head on the ceiling. He could've sworn that Tony made it low on purpose. As he made his way back, he was surprised to see a familiar redhead.

"Hey, I thought you couldn't come?" When Nat didn't answer him, Steve walked over to her. He smiled slightly when he saw the thin white wire connected to her phone. He reached over and hooked a finger around the cord, popping her earbud out of her ear.

"You're going to kill your hearing if you have them up that loud, you know."

Startled, Nat whipped around defensively, but relaxed when she saw it was Steve.

"Asshole." She waved him off.

"I didn't know you were coming." He said, sitting down beside her, in what was customarily Clint's seat.

"Me neither. I finished my last job a little early, though. Figured you'd need moral support."

Steve nodded. "Thank you. Is Clint hiding here somewhere too?" It was rare to see the couple separated.

Nat shook her head. "Nah, he volunteered to take Sam and Wanda out today and put them through their paces."

"That's good. They're good kids." Steve rubbed the back of his neck, failing miserably at the small talk.

"You're nervous." Nat observed, leaning back in her seat. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's not true."

Steve was silent for a minute, reluctant to voice his concerns. "I guess I'm a little shook up. The last time I saw the guy I dropped him off a train. What if we don't find him? What if he never remembers me?"

Nat patted his back. "Listen, Steve, his fall was an accident. He can't blame you for that. You guys were best friends. You don't let something like that go. He'll remember you. And if this is a dead end waste of a trip, we get to laugh at Tony for spending the gas money, and then we keep looking."

Steve smiled. "Thanks."

She smiled back at him. "Now go read a book or something, I need to brood mysteriously." She shooed him away and he settled in his usual seat, shaking his head and smiling slightly.

It was a shame things hadn't worked out between them. They had gone on a couple dates, and tried things out, but they both decided it was better for their working relationship just to end it there. She taught Steve a lot during that week, and he was eternally grateful. After they parted ways, Nat and Clint started dating, with much nudging from both Tony and Steve. It was for the best. Steve couldn't help but smile when he saw them together. He filled the gaping void in his own heart by becoming overly invested in other people's, which is a normal response. Although sometimes he couldn't help being a little bit jealous of the pair, only because he'd missed his own date with the right partner. He thought of Peggy a lot, and it made his heart ache terribly.

Steve scratched his stubble fiercely, and shifted in his seat, preparing for the longest forty five minutes of his life. He felt like a little kid again, waiting in line to get on a roller coaster. Bucky used to make him ride all the big ones. They'd wait in line for what felt like hours, Steve getting more nervous by the second while Bucky got more excited. For a while, Steve was too small to ride most things, but once he passed the standard height requirement he never got a break. He would complain miserably the whole time, scream his heart out and declare how terrified he was, but as soon as they got off the ride, it was usually Steve who drug Bucky back in line for round two.

A very long time later, the quinjet was parked in an empty field not very far away from the actual base. The three avengers piled out of the jet, preparing for the short hike in the cold snow. Nat slipped into a hooded parka and mittens, tying snow boots on her feet. Steve and Tony just went in their suits. They both almost immediately regretted their decisions. The cold hit Steve first, raising goosebumps on his arms. He'd felt worse, but this was no picnic. Nat seemed perfectly at home, taking off across the snow almost cheerfully. Tony, on the other hand, was shivering in his suit.

"Goddammit!" He swore, squirming around in an attempt to bang on the back of the suit. "My heating system is all messed up."

Steve patted him on the back, a little forcefully. Tony staggered forward, but there was a soft hum as the heat came on.

"oof!" The smaller man exclaimed. "Well, I do like it rough."

Steve couldn't see Tony's face, but he had no trouble envisioning the cheeky grin spreading across his face.

"Let's just look for Bucky." He sighed, starting in the direction of the base. Nat was way ahead of them, looking perfectly at home in the frosty atmosphere. Tony popped open his helmet, glancing at Steve.

"Last one there is an expired capsicle!" He called cheerfully, springing into the air. In a few seconds he was gone.

It took Nat and Steve nearly twenty minutes to make their way to the base. The snow varied in depth, going from less than a foot to waist height in the span of three steps. but the duo pushed on, arriving at the entrance far too late for Tony's taste. The structure was underground, with a large metal door built into a rock face. Tony was sitting under the overhang, beneath the keypad that opened the door. His helmet was off, and he was slurping noodles from a takeout container. The code had been cracked, and the door was open just a hair.

"Did you guys know there's a town about ten minutes that direction? The takeout is amazing."

"Tony-" Nat started, a frown on her face. This was ridiculous.

"Did you want some?" Tony tipped the container towards her, offering her the chopsticks. Nat reached for the container.

"Nah, I'm just kidding." He pulled the food back before Nat could take it. "I got you your own." He handed her a box and a pair of chopsticks. "And I got a fortune cookie for the star spangled man with a plan." Tony pulled out a fortune cookie and tossed it to Steve, who made no move to catch it. The cookie bounced off his chest and then hit the ground, cracking.

"Wow. You know, there are children starving in Africa." Tony pointed an accusing chopstick in the blonde man's direction.

"Stark, stay on task." Steve headed for the popped open door, slipping his shield onto his forearm.

"Well, you guys took two hours to get here." Tony rolled his eyes, peeling himself up off the ground and standing behind Steve. "I got hungry."

Steve let out a quiet noise of disgust and then opened the door. It creaked open slowly, letting sunlight stream into the dusty room. In the center of the room there was an assortment of sinister looking equipment. A desk sat to one side, covered in papers. There were old uniforms scattered around, and half finished inventions laying everywhere. It seemed to be some sort of science lab. On the wall hung a huge map of Europe, with pins pushed in at certain places. Steve recognized the pattern immediately- they were all locations where he and the Howling Commandos had fought Hydra forces and won. Towards the back of the room were double doors. He moved across the large room cautiously, while Nat and Tony followed behind him single file, shamelessly slurping their noodles.

Steve pushed open the double doors slowly, cringing at the squeaking noise of the rusted hinges. They weren't locked, which struck Steve as odd. Shield ready, he slipped into the hall. It was even more deserted than the other room. They made their way down the hall, passing what appeared to be offices.

"Can we snoop around in these?" Nat asked, opening one of the doors and looking inside.

"Yeah, I want to see who kept fuzzy handcuffs in their desk drawer." Tony snickered.

The implication was completely lost on Steve, who responded with: 'Probably no one, as fuzzy handcuffs would be ineffective in restraining a prisoner."

Tony smirked. "Not a prisoner of looove."

"Shut the hell up, Stark." Nat rolled her eyes. "Let's find this storage room."

"Do you have the map?" Steve asked Tony, still hung up on figuring out the purpose of the handcuffs.

Tony nodded and raised his arm up horizontally. A projection of the blueprint Steve found in the box spun in mid air, showing their location and their intended location.

Following the map, the trio went down the hall. They navigated the labyrinth of rooms and hallways, groping for light switches and batting away cobwebs, until they finally found storage room number one. Steve stood outside the door, staring at the number. This was it. Holding his breath, he put his hand on the knob and turned, slowly opening the door. Light from the hall filtered into the abandoned room. It was unnecessary, however, because the glow from the cryogenic tube provided enough illumination for the trio to make their way in without tripping over any obstacles. Everything was covered with dust. Whoever was in that tube hadn't been out. There WAS someone inside, though, as they could see a vague outline of a person. The glass was too grimy for them to see inside, but Nat thought the outline was too small to be Barnes. The three Avengers picked their way across the room, gathering around the container.

With bated breath, Steve raised a gloved hand and wiped away some of the dirt and dust, revealing the occupant's face.

"Holy shit." He breathed, dropping his shield.

"Language!" Tony scolded mockingly, peering around the tube to see who it was. When he caught sight of the person, his jaw dropped, and his takeout fell to the floor with a clunk. "Is that...?" He asked, stepping over the spilled noodles to get a better look.

"It is." Steve confirmed, studying the face behind the glass.

"Holy shit."


	2. Chapter 2

\- November 2nd, 1945 -

It was a chilly, rainy night in New York City. The lights of the city twinkled bravely against a backdrop of stormy grey, and the sky looked ready to break open at any moment. Peggy Carter strolled down the sidewalk, pulling her jacket tighter around her body. The cold usually didn't bother her, but tonight the wind cut like a knife.  
She could hear the music before she saw the place. The sounds of the Stork club echoed down the fairly deserted street. It grew louder as she approached until she was standing outside the familiar building. The doorman nodded to her and allowed her to come in, and she gave him a tight lipped smile in response.

The warmth of the room hit her immediately. The faint glow of the lights was welcoming, and the heat made her skin prickle as feeling returned to her face. People were scurrying every which way. Waiters slid between patrons, carrying trays heaped with dishes. A drunken couple was getting too friendly in a corner booth as a table of rowdy patrons cheered loudly for one of their members chugging his drink. Other, more sophisticated tables talked quietly, and on the dance floor people twirled to the rhythm of the song the band was belting out. Peggy watched them jealously for a few moments, before tearing her gaze away and finding her usual table.

A thin, dark haired man was already in the booth, ordering drinks from a waiter. She headed towards her seat, brushing past a tipsy actress with a familiar face whose name she couldn't quite remember.

"Howard." She greeted, removing her jacket and laying it on the seat. She noted the way his eyes slid over her figure, taking in the navy fabric accentuating her curves.

"Hi Pegs. new dress?"

Peggy smoothed the front of her dress, a soft, silky creation that hugged her body appealingly.

"I thought it was time."

"Looks good."

The waiter arrived with their drinks, setting a wine glass in front of Howard. A glass full of scotch landed in front of Peggy, and she thanked the waiter before turning back to her counterpart. Ever since Steve's plane went down, she had been a regular at the club. Every Friday she made the journey from her little apartment into Manhattan. She tried to tell herself it was useless, but a small part of her was hoping that he'd make it there intact- a week late, or two weeks, or two months. It was foolish, but for a while she hung on to some shred of belief that he had survived somehow. For God's sake, he was Captain America. He would show up, late and sheepish, but he would be alive. But he never showed up.

Each Friday, the ache was a little bit less. The first night had been the worst. Peggy had gotten blackout drunk in the booth by herself, and suffered an embarrassing cab ride home that ended with her puking on the sidewalk outside her apartment. Once Howard caught wind of that situation, he insisted on accompanying her to the Club whenever he could. He never said anything about why she was going, claiming that he only wanted to make sure she wouldn't drink herself to death. Peggy didn't mind. He was "in" with the club owner, and ever since she had been marked as his friend, they had no trouble procuring her usual table. Her preferred booth was close enough to the door to examine every person who passed through. By now, she had pretty much retired the idea that Steve would waltz in, and she had stopped checking every person who entered. Her heart had stopped racing every time a tall, blonde man waltzed in. Before long, she figured that the need to return to the club, the compulsion just to check- would fade away too. And the nightmares would stop, and she would finally just be another woman who had lost someone in the war. Steve would just be the picture she kept tucked away and a story that she could tell. But for now, she would come back. And she would meet with Howard, especially on nights like tonight when they had business to take care of.  
Overall, the nights when Howard showed up were the best- he kept her occupied, and his presence seemed to disparage others attempting to win her attention. At the moment, Peggy dodged the gaze of a handsome, buff man with an overgrown buzz-cut who was clearly celebrating his return from the war with a few too many drinks.

"Care to dance?" Asked Howard, interrupting her observations.

"I don't dance." Peggy replied curtly, fixing him with a glare.

The corner of Howard's mouth flicked up in amusement, and his eyes lit up with a devilish glimmer.

"You're full of shit, Carter." He reached for her hand, lightly resting his on top of hers. "That wasn't the answer you gave me before."

Peggy pulled her hand away. During one of their earlier visits, she dragged Howard onto the dance floor in an intoxicated haze. The night ended in his penthouse, and Peggy discovered that he had a marvelous view of the city from his bedroom window.

"I was grieving." She hesitated for a second, studying the dark circles that had begun to reside under Howard's eyes over the past two months. "We were both grieving."

The twinkle went out of his eyes, and he nodded his head. Clearing his throat, he muttered softly, "shame, though. You're a hell of a dancer."

Peggy scoffed slightly at his pronouncement. The truth was, he danced exceedingly well himself.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere." she chided, lifting her glass to her lips.

"Worth a shot." He grinned, downing his drink in one smooth sip.

Peggy was unimpressed.

"Are you ready to behave yourself?" She asked. "We have business to do."

"Right, right. Of course." Howard slid a hand through his hair nervously before producing a briefcase. He unlatched the box quickly, as if the metal might burn him. From inside the box came two maps and a sheet of paper, covered in his sloppy scrawl.

After the crash and the defeat of Red Skull, it was assumed that Hydra would be forced to surrender. The SSR and the United States had declared that Hydra was no longer a threat, and "clean up crews" were being sent to abandoned bases across Europe to strip the bases of any artifacts that could be useful for the U.S. Peggy accompanied the Howling Commandoes on a few journeys. Things weren't quite adding up. Estimates and calculations they had received from the military were incredibly incorrect. They had encountered hostiles in bases that were presumed to be empty. Privately, they had come to the conclusion that Hydra was far from defeated.

To further this theory, Howard had uncovered a frozen Hydra base in the Russian countryside while searching desperately for Steve's final resting place. He had been doing a sonar search of an area fifty miles away, but suspicious readings pulled him towards the base. A quick reconnaissance had determined that it was abandoned. A closer examination revealed that it contained a large number of the organizations files, including a folder detailing a plan to reboot the organization in collaboration with the KGB. The Russian government had shown interest in getting their hands on a share of something called the "Winter Soldier Project", and Hydra was keen on letting them invest in exchange for protection. Of course, with the war over, the project could be a harder sell.

For Peggy, the thought that Hydra could still be operating somewhere after all they had been through was like a slap in the face. Steve had given his life to put an end to their reign of terror. Howard, the commandoes, and herself had decided to put a stop to things once and for all.

"Pegs, are you sure you want to do this?" Howard was studying her face, paper in hand. "It's not going to be easy."

"I have to do this," she bit her lip before adding softly "for Steve."

He nodded in understanding before passing her the maps, smoothing his hair back again.

"Did you get _hair gel_ on this?" She accused, using a napkin to wipe off the slimy substance covering her fingers.

"It isn't easy to be this good looking." He shot back, giving her a wink.

She rolled her eyes and began to study the map. It showed the countries of Northern Europe. Small, red markings denoted the location of all known Hydra bases in the area.

"I thought Sweden was neutral?" Peggy frowned, observing a single, small dot in the mountains of the country.

"It's just a storage base." Howard explained, leaning across the table to look at the paper with her. "Not sure how they managed to it across the border, but as far as we know there was never much activity from there and they scraped by without any interference."

"Interesting." Peggy mused, taking in the rest of the map.

Howard pointed to a base on the northwestern edge of Russia.

"This is where we think they're still working."

Peggy nodded, her mind racing. The game was to put a stop to this Winter Soldier thing before Russia could get involved. She shuddered to think of what might happen if the two were to cooperate so close to the end of the war. Tensions were already high. Any sort of collusion could trigger a response from the United States leading to a third conflict of nuclear proportions.

Additionally, there was the question of whether or not the SSR truly believed that Hydra had been disposed of. Howard was strongly convinced that the government was aware of that Hydra was still operational, and had no plans to fight it not that the war was over. He was a conspiracy man, through and through. Peggy was unconvinced, feeling that the men in charge were merely too high on victory to believe that they had failed. Either way, the pair had discussed working together to create a union of agents whose purpose was to work with the government to monitor and protect the United States from any outside threats, namely organizations like Hydra. It would be separate from government led operations, but still work side by side with them when necessary. Everything they did would be completely legal, and hand in hand with operations. However, at the moment, they were operating in defiance of all orders and completely under the radar.

"I'm thinking maybe we put you in a tight dress and have you shimmy your way in." Howard made a crude gesture with his hands, demonstrating exactly what he meant.

"Why don't we put you in the tight dress for a change." Peggy grabbed the second map, which was a detailed estimate of the base she would be entering. Of course, she wouldn't be going alone. She would be escorted by the commandoes during the invasion. Ideally, they would be able to secure access into the base, capture all parties in hiding for defying the terms of their surrender, and then gut the building, preferably with many explosives.

"I don't think many Hydra officers would find me to be their type. I'm very high maintenance." Howard replied with a straight face, picking up the paper with his scribbles all over it. "Officers leave the base once or twice a week to go to town for supplies. A few interesting deliveries have also been made directly to the vault. My surveillance modules have also caught one specific man who makes the best of his every trip into town. His name is Sebastian Schubermann. Probably a doctor or something. Point is, he usually heads into the town's bar, picks up a chick, takes her to a hotel, and then rolls back to the bunker the next morning,"

Peggy arched an eyebrow at him.  
"I'm not sleeping with anyone."

Howard shrugged. "Just make it to his hotel. What happens behind that door is your business. He should have his ID and keys with him, because he needs those to get in an out."

Peggy nodded. The mark sounded exactly like the kind of man she enjoyed making a fool out of. "You're suggesting I merely get him wasted and then steal his stuff? Seems easy enough. Where do we go from there?"

"Well, Falsworth is about the same size as him. I'm thinking if we stick him in the uniform he'll be able to get through the door with the keys and ID." Howard paused as the waiter approached their table to ask if they wanted a second round of drinks.

Peggy asked for a glass of water, but Howard had another of whatever he was sipping on and the waiter whisked their empty glasses away without another word.

"Only water?" Howard teased, feigning surprise. "I only like to come here with you so that you make me feel like less of an alcoholic."

"Maybe that's a sign that you are an alcoholic." Peggy retorted. "Can we please focus on the task at hand?"

"Okay, okay! No need to get testy with me, your highness."

Peggy shot him a glare. She'd broken more than one nose for comments along those lines.

"As I was saying," Howard began again, a bit dramatically. "After Falsworth is in, he's heading straight for the panel box to flip the breakers. He'll signal us as soon as security is down. Morita will ride with him in his vehicle. I'll drop you and Dernier over the roof. There's a vent there that the two of you can slide through. Dum Dum and Jones are stuck breaking through the electric fence, and then they'll rendezvous with Morita, who will let them in through this back door."

Peggy nodded. This was her first time looking over the intel, but everything Howard had planned seemed to line up well. She trusted him. He knew what he was talking about when it came to strategy, and she knew that between the two of them, they would be able to nail down every part of the plan. They needed to make sure they had backup plans a-z fully prepped and ready to implement at any second.

The pair stayed in the booth for several hours, peering at their maps. They plotted and planned, delineating every possible problem. Most of the night life inside the club was dying down when Peggy finally declared that everything had been laid out to her satisfaction.

"I think that oughta do it." She announced, straightening in her seat.

"Thank God!" He exclaimed. "I've had enough of this." He cracked his knuckles emphatically, and then stretched his back. "Wanna come back to my place with me and catch a nap?"

Peggy hesitated. It was a tempting offer. She liked Howard, she really did. They had a fair amount of chemistry, and worked well together. All nonsense aside, she was thoroughly worn out and his place was much closer than hers. But after a moment, her common sense won out and she declined.

"No, I should probably go home." She briskly began folding up the maps.

"Are you sure?" Howard grinned. "It would be much nicer for me. I sleep better with you around."

"Not happening, Howard. We can't do that again." Peggy handed him back his maps.

"But-"

"No buts. What happened happened, but we can't- I can't have a repeat." She touched his hand gently.

His face fell, but he wrapped his fingers around hers to take her hand.

"I understand." He said quietly, with a trace of bitterness in his voice. Peggy could almost see him mentally comparing himself to Steve, marking down all the reasons he paled in comparison to the man she had lost- the friend they had both lost. She didn't know how to explain to him that Steve had nothing to do with it. She just wasn't ready for anything like that yet. A single slip up was one thing, but she wasn't ready for it to be more.

"At least let me drive you home." He offered, looking pitiful.

"Fine." Peggy conceded, standing up. It would save her the cab fare. As long as he didn't act like a miserable moron the whole way back, it would be tolerable. As they left the Stork Club together, a couple girls eyed Peggy enviously, clearly wishing that Howard was leaving with them instead. He completely ignored the attention, obviously used to getting stares wherever he went. To Peggy's relief, their discussion turned to Howard's upcoming press conference regarding the latest technological advancements on his hover car.

"It'll be great." He promised her as they approached her apartment. "If you aren't busy, you should turn up. I put on quite the show."

"I imagine you do." She said, only slightly sarcastic as they pulled up in front of her building. "Thanks for the lift."

"No problem. Get some rest." He gave her a half smile as she thanked him again and hopped out of the car. She felt his eyes watching her as she made her way to the front door, and she had to fight the urge to turn around and flip him off. She was ready for a good, solid sleep. Mission prep had to start fairly early the next morning, and she was excited to be back into the action.

 _Finally_ , she thought as she headed to bed. _I finally have a reason to get up in the morning again._

A month later, on a snowy Friday in December, Howard made his way into the Stork club, alone. He expected no company tonight. He originally wanted this to be a celebration of the successful capture of dozens of Hydra operative, dammit. That's what it was supposed to be. Instead, their mission in Russia had been a spectacular failure before it even started. The mark had been two steps ahead of them. They hadn't even made it through the first part of their plan. Now, Peggy was presumably dead. Guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders, he settled down in the usual booth and ordered a single glass of Scotch.

 _For Peggy_ , he thought when the drink came. He downed the whole thing in one gulp, and ordered three more.

 _To forget her,_ he thought bitterly. _To forget all the people I've lost._

Thoroughly intoxicated, he pulled out his briefcase. He had to come up with a way to make sure nothing like this could ever happen again. He needed to be better prepared, better equipped, and better trained than his enemies. Leaving the fight was not an option, so had to make sure they would win.

Howard thought of his fallen comrades as he laid out the plans for a project he had dubbed the SHIELD. He scribbled fervently until he was out of paper, so he continued his work with a small stack of napkins. When he finished, he sat back and admired his effort.

There was only one thing left to do. He plucked the last empty napkin from the tabletop and flattened it out in front of him, scribbling "SHIELD Initiative Projects" at the top. Below that, he wrote the number one, followed by "find crash site of Steven Grant Rogers." Number two was to find the final resting place of one Margaret "I'm not telling you my middle name, Howard. Stop asking." Carter. The third item was simple. Two words. "end Hydra." Howard traced the letters over and over again, until the point of his pen punched through the napkin. He almost didn't notice the tears sliding down his cheeks, except that they left small, wet splotches all over his masterpiece.

"For Peggy." Howard said aloud to nobody in particular, raising his last glass of scotch into the air. "And for Steve, and for Bucky, and for the Commandoes, and for every freedom loving citizen in the United States."

He paused for a long moment, choosing his next words very carefully.

" _Fuck Hydra_."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Too Many Business Meetings, Not Enough Personal Meetings**

Steve squeezed his fist tightly, focusing on the sharp pinch of pain as his short fingernails bit into the palm of his hand. He'd been sitting in a meeting for two hours. Two whole hours. And it looked like it could go on for another four, assuming Tony didn't shut his mouth. Nat was curled up into a chair on his right, taking notes in a small book with a Captain America pencil. How she had managed to bend her body to sit the way she was perched, Steve had no idea. Beside the redhead was Clint, playing with his own lime green Hulk pen. He was doodling something- from what Steve could see, it looked like a cartoon of the Hulk giving Tony a swirly. Two nondescript and fairly generic SHIELD agents were sitting on Steve's other right. They almost looked identical to him, and there was no way he could tell you either one's name. Maria Hill sat at the head of the table beside Tony, who was pulling imaged up on some kind of holographic screen projection doohickey. Beside the glass table that they were sitting at, a smaller, sloppily prepared fold-up card table had been jammed into the room. Wanda Maximoff, James Rhodes, Sam Wilson, and Vision were sitting there, looking rather uncomfortable.

When the meeting first started, Sam had raised his hand. "Point of inquiry." He scowled, interrupting Tony. "Why are we stuck at this damn baby table?"

"It's the kid's table, Hedwig. Don't get your feathers in a twist. When you're all grown up and a real Avenger, then you can sit with the adults."

Wanda arched a thin eyebrow at the billionaire as Sam scowled harder, producing a Crayola box that had been left on the table. "Is that why you laid out _crayons_ for us as well?"

"What's wrong, big bird? Can't find the yellow one to use for your self portrait?" Tony smirked.

"All right! That's enough!" Maria stood up and glared at Tony. "We're not here to trade insults back and forth."

"What ARE we here for?" Asked Nat, glancing at Steve. His pulse had been racing. Finally, they were getting some news on what they had found in the cryogenics chamber during their search for Bucky. It couldn't possibly be anything else. He had been aching for an update ever since they'd been forced to turn their discovery over to SHIELD.

"We're here to discuss protocol changes regarding how to request information from and to contact SHIELD." Maria looked as if the words pained her to say, and everyone stared at her with blank expressions. Steve's mood flattened instantly. No news. He wasn't even getting yelled at.

As if that start hadn't been bad enough, everything still found a way to go downhill from there. The meeting was a mind numbing two hours of Maria failing to use Tony's technology effectively to make the presentation interesting, Tony arguing with her about every minute detail of hierarchy restructuring, and Sam making comments about how his crayon art was coming every five minutes. Steve was jittery, on the edge of his seat throughout the whole meeting. Hours of his life were being wasted.

Annoyed by the whole ordeal, Steve relaxed his hand, studying the small breaks in the skin where his nails had pierced him. He watched, transfixed, as the tiny wounds healed themselves, focusing on the nearly pleasant itch in order to tune out Tony's incessant talking. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand the mindless prattle.

"Captain Rogers, are you with us?" Tony asked sarcastically, in a manner that reminded Steve strongly of his fourth grade teacher.

"How much of this actually applies to me?" Steve grunted impatiently, trying to cover up the fact that he hadn't heard a single word. He leaned on the glass tabletop with his elbow as he spoke- perhaps a bit too forcefully. He internally winced as he heard it crack, pretending not to notice.

"All of it. Every word." Tony rubbed his face, looking as though he had a severe headache. "Please tell me you didn't crack the table again."

"He cracked the table." Clint chimed in, snickering.

Maria looked exasperated. Steve felt sympathy for her. He had to deal with his childish coworkers every day- he knew exactly how she was feeling.

"Steve, this is actually important." She assured him. "I mean yeah, it's just protocol bullshit, but we have to do everything by the book to cover ourselves."

Steve nodded his understanding. Usually he was the only member of the team actually paying attention, scribbling everything down so he could remember it, and going over all their protocols in his head. But right now was just not the time. He looked down at his hands again, squeezing his fingers back into a fist.

He couldn't stop replaying the events from a few days earlier over and over in his head. Nobody had been expecting what they uncovered in the glass chamber- Bucky Barnes was nowhere to be found. The person in the tube was Peggy Carter. Steve had been in a state of utter disbelief when he wiped the dust off the glass and saw her face inside. Ice had formed on her eyelashes, and her lips were blue. Combined with her paper white skin, she looked like she was from another world. When he fully processed what his eyes were seeing, his breath caught in his chest and he put a palm against the glass. She still looked as beautiful as she had when they first met. He'd never expected to see her again. She was dead. Everything he had read said that. Every mention of her name was a led him to a small, unassuming grave in a London cemetery. He'd been there. He'd seen it. He'd gone home, slightly more broken than before, and feeling more alone than ever. But now, here he was, a few inches away from someone he never thought he'd get a second chance with.

There had been a short quibble between Natasha and Tony about the best way to remove the chamber and asses it's contents. Steve stayed out of it, glued to the glass like a kid at a fish tank. He watched Peggy intently for any sign of life, waiting on her finger to twitch, or to see the faint rise and fall of her chest. Any possible evidence that she was alive inside there- praying fervently that it was real. But he had seen nothing.

Blissfully unaware of the implications of what they had found, Nat and Tony decided that their only option was to turn their discovery over to SHIELD. They had successfully resuscitated Steve after his frozen body was found, maybe they would able to do the same here. They called Nick Fury directly. Steve barely heard any of it. He was in a daze. The last time he had seen her, he had given her a rushed goodbye kiss and a promise he couldn't fill. When she woke up- i _f she woke up_ \- she might not even know who he was. She might be furious with him. He hoped desperately everything would be alright.

 _Please be okay_ , he had thought, staring at her through the glass. He felt hot tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He felt like he'd been trapped in this modern hell for a long, lonely eternity. But here was hope- asleep in a glass box, coated in a thin layer of frost. As he stood there, someone had snuck up behind him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Without thinking, Steve swung. The unwary SHIELD agent who had startled him ducked, but didn't avoid the entire hit. Steve's fist grazed the man's cheek, and there was an audible crack as his fist connected with the man's flesh. Stunned, the agent blinked at him with eyes as round as an owl's.

"Sir, we need you to step back behind the perimeter. We'll handle this from here."

The man's face was beginning to swell where Steve had hit him, but he bravely insisted that the Avengers had to watch from a safe distance away. Steve tried to protest, but Tony grabbed his arm.

"Let's just give them space." He reasoned, and although Steve easily could have ripped away from his grip, he let his smaller friend pull him away.

The swarm of agents that had materialized, seemingly out of nowhere, began inspecting the glass case, looking for a release mechanism. A thin woman with black hair found the switch. As the lever was pulled, sparks flew and Peggy's body gave a brief jerk. The tank lit up briefly, and the chamber opened with a hiss. Two inept agents clumsily pulled Peggy's stiff body from the chamber, detaching wires and electrodes from her chest. She was wearing a nondescript black jumpsuit with the hydra emblem on it. The sight of the logo was like a punch in the gut to Steve. He would kill whoever did this to her. If they were dead already, they could consider themselves very lucky.

One of the shield agents slipped- her fingers on the cold material and the slippery frost were a losing combination. Peggy slid to the floor before anyone could catch her. Steve couldn't help himself: he leapt forward, shoving the agent he had already punched to the side with one arm. Behind him, he could feel metal fingers grab his bicep, but he tuned it out. All he could see was Peggy. He didn't make much progress. Nat and Tony were holding him firmly in one place, with the help of the rocket boosters on Tony's suit. The same woman who found the lever was the first one to inspect Peggy, kneeling beside her and placing two gloved fingers on her neck.

"She's got a pulse but no breathing!" She called out to the other agents in attendance. Steve felt his breath catch in his chest again. _She had a pulse._ Tjme seemed to slow down. The agents crowded in closer to the scene, blocking Peggy from Steve's view. But none of that mattered. She was _alive_.

Numb, Steve allowed Tony to pull him toward the door. For the first time in seventy years, he felt small. He was a helpless boy cornered in an alley again. _Her heart was beating._

He let Tony take him out of the compound, and the crisp mountain air hit him like a slap in the face. A new round of nausea was worming around his gut. Even if she lived, things had changed. There was no telling who they had pulled out of that chamber- she had Peggy Carter's face, but she was virtually a stranger.

The ride back to New York was a hazy blur of disbelief and worry. Steve replayed every memory he had of her on loop. He imagined every scenario of his first visit once she woke up. He would bring her flowers. Yes, roses. Unless that was too forward. He just wanted to be there when her eyes opened for the first time- he knew how disconcerting it was to wake up in a new era. Nat took a cozy nap beside Steve, wadding up her coat and using at as a pillow. She was close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off her body. At one time, the way they were sitting would have sent Steve into a flurry of confusing emotions. But now, the only girl on his mind was Peggy.

After they got back, Steve experienced the worst two days of his life. He barely slept or ate, hardly daring to breathe. At any moment he thought he might wake up and realize it was all a dream. Peggy Carter was _alive._ At least, as far as he knew. It was incredibly difficult to know that she was there, just out of arms reach. He had no idea where she was being kept, but he was desperate to receive some update on her condition.

He had exhausted every possible contact within shield- Nick Fury wouldn't talk to him, Maria Hill had been out of the country and had no idea what had even happened, Nat was being kept in the dark, and Clint barely made an effort to know where he was, let alone anyone else. He had only been able to convince Agent Coulson to let him know if he found anything out. Given that he was one of Fury's right hand men, he would likely be able to discern the facts for Steve at some point. He just had to see her again. The words "she has a pulse" echoed around his head constantly. She had to be alive, she had to be. He kept replaying what he would say when he saw her, trying to figure out how to breach decades in one sentence.

But right now, he was stuck in this eternal meeting from hell. And nobody had given him any answers yet.

"Does anyone have any questions?" Maria asked, snapping Steve back to the present.

"I think we're clear now." Tony nodded, looking at everyone else to confirm.

Sam's hand shot up. "Are the chicken tenders cheaper since I'm ordering them off the kiddie menu?"

"Okay then, I think that's everything." Maria smoothed her skirt, ignoring Sam completely. Steve stood up immediately, followed by the rest of the team. He made a beeline for the door, ready to flee back to his apartment and spend three hours watching food network.

"Not you, Captain. I need to have a word with you."

Steve felt his heart sink. Digging his nails back into his palms, he turned around to face Maria. "What's the deal?" He asked, sounding a bit more hostile than he intended. He was afraid she was going to give him more trouble for not listening to the meeting.

Maria hesitated, watching for the last Avenger to make their way out the door. "It's about Barnes." She said at last. "Your friend, James Buchanan Barnes. After he fell, he didn't die."

"I know." Steve interrupted, noting the look of surprise on Maria's face.

"Who told you-?"

"CNN."

"Of course." Maria made a face like she had bit into a very sour candy. "The press got ahold of some stories before we could shut it down. They made him out to be some regular crazy."

"He's not, is he?" Steve asked, biting his lip. "Regular, I mean. Like, he's not normal anymore?"

Maria nodded. "Metal arm, enhanced abilities- the whole deal."

"We have to help him." Steve replied, looking her in the eye.

She sighed. "I knew you would say that. He might be after you. Barton and Romanoff were assigned on your tail. The council ordered Fury not to tell you that he's been killing again. Just be careful. Im glad you got a heads up."

Steve's head was swimming. "Killing again? I feel like there's a lot going on that you're not telling me. SHIELD knew Bucky was on the loose?"

"Good luck, Captain." Maria patted him on the shoulder before turning to the door, leaving him standing there with a million thoughts bouncing around his head.

She hesitated as she reached the door, as if she had suddenly remembered an important detail. "By the way, Coulson needs to see you as well."

In spite of his newly minted headache, Steve felt his heart do a flip in his chest.

"Next time, lead with that!" He replied, taking off towards Phil's office. He almost trampled Maria in his haste to get out the door. He struggled to keep his pace relatively low key as he prowled down the hallway of the SHIELD base they were meeting in, nodding to a few agents he vaguely knew as he passed them.

When he reached Phil's office, the door was cracked open slightly. He bust through it without knocking, pretending not to notice that he had completely taken the door off its bottom hinge. He gingerly tried to set the door back in place, letting dangle behind him.

"Jesus, Steve!" Coulson exclaimed as the captain burst through his office door, but Steve paid no notice to his evident surprise.

"Maria told me you needed to talk to me. Is it about- you know!" His heart was thumping wildly in his chest as he roughly grabbed a chair sitting beside the door and drug it over to sit across from Phil. He paid no notice as he accidentally cracked the arm of the chair halfway off, plopping down in front of his friend with a look of frantic determination on his face. "I want to see her. I don't care what state she's in."

"Relax, Cap." Phil said, scratching the back of his head. "She's fine for now."

"Is she awake?" Steve asked, trying to control the panic in his voice.

"No. She's scheduled to be in a medically induced coma for up to four weeks while she heals from injuries sustained prior to being frozen." Phil laid a plain folder on his desk. Steve leaned back into the chair, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Everything was under control. "There's only one problem."

Steve clutched the armrests, anxiety gnawing at his stomach once more. "What is it?"

"She's healing at three times the expected pace." Coulson opened the folder, oblivious to Steve's tense look of confusion. "According to her folder, she was an M16 agent assigned as a liaison to the SSR- after the war, she decided to stay in America and was expected to transfer to an American agency. During this time, she was rumored to have been seen on the arm of Howard Stark- I assume you already know all this?"

Steve had, in fact, already pored over the file several times. He knew her full name, age, birthdate, employment record- he'd read every gossip rag detailing her alleged affair with Howard Stark- and he'd gone over the paper stating that she was reported missing during an endeavor to remove artifacts from a deserted Hydra base at least 1000 times.

"Some of it, yes." He lied, shifting in his seat impatiently. "But what does any of this have to do with- whatever happened to her?"

Phil's expression changed, and he leaned in intensely. "What do you know about the Winchester Project?"

"The what now?" This was the first time Steve had ever heard the words. Phil looked disappointed.

"She never mentioned the Winchester project? I figured since you two were... close... it would have come up."

Steve had never elaborated on his relationship with Peggy to Phil. He had merely excused his interest in her case by saying they were 'involved' during the war- and for some reason Phil's assumption that the involvement was intimate irritated him.

"Can we please just get to the point?" Steve snapped, feeling like he was in some sort of setup.

Phil looked taken aback. "Well, I can try. We don't know very much. That's part of why I was eager to see what you knew."

"Just start at the beginning." Steve breathed, trying to contain his temper.

"Fine then. Project Winchester was a British project that has never been declassified. It's long been assumed that it was an early version of the super soldier serum that you received. Carter was one of three M16 agents assigned to work in the program. No one is sure what came of the project but it was labeled a failure- Carter was placed on probation for two months and then shipped off to be a liaison with the SSR. The other two agents never received a mark on their records and earned quick promotions. The science division in charge of the project lost all their progress during a bombing raid and everything they had done was gone, so all their research and records were lost"

Steve picked at his fingernail. He felt like he was invading Peggy's privacy. "So what are you implying? You think maybe she was a test subject or something?"

Phil shrugged. "I only know as much as I told you just now. But I can also say that she has increased bone and muscle density- on a level that's only been observed in you. Clearly we haven't been able to talk to her- as soon as she started to thaw out she woke up and tried to kill a nurse. She was sedated with an unusual amount of sedative, and examined. It was decided to let her heal from her injuries while in a medically induced coma, and then wake her slowly."

Steve rubbed his face. He would hate to be in her position. He was determined to be there for her when she woke up. "So when can I see her? Can I see her? This is all very interesting, but I just- is she going to be okay?"

"I'm not in a position to say. That's up to Dr. Wilson. But nobody can stop you if you want to see her. She isn't a prisoner,

even though the psych team did their best to convince Wilson to put her in a time capsule."

Steve grimaced, remembering his own painful, disorienting introduction to the new world. Hopefully he could be there when she woke up- a familiar face, a friend in this strange modern hell.

"Well, are we going, then?" He asked, bouncing up onto his feet. He rocked on his toes, looking at Phil eagerly.

In the months since he had first met Phil during the Manhattan disaster, the two had grown quite close. His agent friend irritated the hell out of him, but he knew he could always rely on Coulson. Over beers one night, Phil had confessed that he had looked up to Cap since he was a child- he was one of the first volunteers for an attempt to recreate the super soldier serum during the Cold War. The attempt was unsuccessful- all he had to show for it was a halted aging process and slightly improved blood pressure.

"Right now?" Phil asked, suddenly scrambling to put his things away.

"I'm not going to wait." Steve said impatiently.

"I didn't think- I mean, I figured you'd be going by yourself." The man stood up quickly, knocking into his chair. He nervously straightened his tie.

Steve didn't wait another second. He bolted out the broken door, cracking the doorknob out of the wood without even noticing. He took off down the hall, struggling to restrain his pace to a bouncy walk.

"Other way!" Phil said in a harried manner, almost getting knocked over by the captain as the man did an abrupt 180.

 _70 years, at least_. Steve thought, fighting the butterflies churning in his gut. It didn't matter if she was furious at him for crashing, it didn't matter if she had moved on 100 times, it didn't matter if she had no recollection of who he was- she was _alive_.

And he owed her a date.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note** \- Hey everyone! If you're reading this I'd like to thank you for taking the time to support my story. It means so much to me to see people actually following this, even though I started it back in 2016 and at this point it's just jumbled nonsense and timeline inaccuracies. Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know why this chapter took so long to be published. Back at the end of June, I wrote two super quick filler chapters to put out while I was dealing with my crazy hectic summer. I travelled a lot this year and I wanted to be able to keep putting out content for this story. But when I reread them, I wasn't happy with what I had written. I felt like I needed to revise and edit everything, the motivation was gone, and I had a major case of writers block. Well, editors block, I guess. Anyway, I finally got back to them and decided not to give up. With a little perseverance and a lot of rewriting, I'm happy to say that I have a chapter that I'm very pleased with. Sometimes it takes a lotta time to create something that you're proud of, but it's definitely worth it in the end. Don't give up! And while you're here, leave me a comment! :D I love hearing from y'all!

Thanks again for the support-

Claire :)

 **Chapter Four: The CIA Killed JFK**

If Steve had to spend one more second of his life arguing with a nurse, he was going to lose his mind. He felt a very unpatriotic urge to take the clip board out of the woman's hands and snap it in half.

"What do you mean, my clearance level isn't "high enough" ?" He asked the nurse through gritted teeth, even though he had this conversation with the first nurse less than two minutes ago.

"As Angela explained, this ward of the hospital is for high risk patients. Your clearance level must not be high enough to allow you to enter her room." The smug look on the woman's face was enough to make Steve want to put a hole in the counter, but he took a deep breath instead.

"His clearance level is high enough to access any part of the hospital!" Phil told her, slamming his hands down on her desk. He didn't quite manage to break the counter the way Steve was planning to, but the sight of the nurse jumping and turning red in the face was a satisfactory replacement.

"I'm sorry, sir." The nurse said. "She's under high security. Only top tier SHIELD officials can enter her room right now. As I have tried to tell you."

Phil dropped his voice to a whisper. "Have there been more incidents?"

He either didn't realize or didn't care that Steve's enhanced hearing had no difficulty catching every word he spoke.

The nurse leaned in, her previous anger forgotten as the temptation to gossip overcame her. "She got Dr. Wilson pretty good yesterday. Struck outta nowhere, screaming like a wildcat. Absolutely crazy. We had to increase her medications again."

Phil didn't seem to be shocked by this, he simply nodded thoughtfully.

"What do you mean, "incidents?" Like attacking people? I thought she was okay." Steve was looking back and forth from Phil to the receptionist, feeing some of the anger rise up in him again. He couldn't help but to think of Bucky, who had been brainwashed into a sleek, killing machine. Perhaps Peggy had suffered the same fate.

"Good to know." Phil told the nurse, oblivious to the sudden wave of anxiety that was passing over Steve. "We'll just be going, in that case. No use in making a big fuss over this. I'm sure there was just a mix up, we'll get Steve cleared ASAP."

The nurse nodded, looking a bit hesitant due to Phil's sudden mood swings. "Even if I let him through, he'd have to swipe his card before he opened her door. He wouldn't be able to get in regardless."

"They really did lock her up." Phil raised an eyebrow. "So that wouldn't work with his ID, because his clearance is too low?"

"Correct." She seemed wary.

"Okie dokie then." Phil led Steve back to the waiting area, away from the counter. The nurse resumed typing at her keyboard. Phil deftly slipped his name badge off and pressed it into Steve's hand.

"What's this?" Steve asked, fingering the card.

"I'm going to fake a heart attack and you slip in. Room 3A1. Code is 0704."

Steve stared at him like he was crazy- which, maybe he was. "You've been hanging out with Tony too much."

Phil shrugged. "Something is going on here that I don't like. The council is going behind the Director's back and giving orders that don't quite agree with me. I don't know how much of this Nick was aware of, but regardless, I'm not gonna let it stop you."

Steve was touched by Phil's determination. "You don't have to-"

Phil cut him off by letting out a loud grunt and clutching his chest.

"Steve! I think I'm having a heart attack-" Phil was wheezing, clutching his chest and pulling off a convincing grimace.

Steve's panic wasn't entirely fake as he grabbed his friend's arm. He wasn't sure where Phil learned this little party trick, but his lips were going blue. "Easy, buddy. Ma'am, can we get a little help over here?"

The nurse looked up from whatever she was working on and her eyes flew open in panic. She flew out from behind the counter, calling out a code into her pager as she came. Phil was removed from Steve's arms. Steve watched as the nurse led Steve to a solid set of doors in the opposite direction that he was heading.

Without thinking, the Captain dashed for the large metal doors he had been prevented from entering. They were solidly locked. For a second, Steve blindly pushed on the doors, feeling panic rise in his chest. Fortunately, the metal did not crumple or bend under Steve's hands. A few seconds later, he noticed the card reader by the door. He scanned Phil's ID badge and the door slid open with a hiss. Steve darted inside.

He froze in the hallway, scanning the room numbers. There. 3A1. It was the first door on the right. The solid silver panel was the only thing between him and Peggy.

Swallowing his apprehension, Steve walked over to the door. Heart hammering, he placed a hand on the door knob. He forced himself to take a deep breath before opening the door and walking through it.

Behind the first door was a second set of doors, much thicker and more solid than the first. These doors had no handle or numbers. It felt like he was entering a jail cell. There was a pad to swipe his card beside the door.

Ignoring the shaking of his fingers, Steve fumbled his card into the reader. A small oval lit up in the center of the pad with a message telling him to place his thumb on the mark. Holding his breath, Steve placed his finger on the button.

Access Denied.

The message flashed in all caps, and Steve growled in desperation. He tried it twice more with the same result. Frustrated, he turned to leave. He was going to have to find Phil and figure out a new strategy. Thankfully, before he could actually leave, a little beep drew his attention back to the keypad. There was now a new line of text, asking if he would like to key in a pin code.

"Yes, for goodness sake." Steve mumbled to himself, punching in the numbers Coulson had whispered to him.

The door suddenly opened, dissolving into its frame as if by magic. As soon as Steve stepped through, it shimmered back into place, but he hardly noticed. His eyes were on the woman tidily tucked into the bedsheets.

Peggy lay in the hospital bed, the thin sheets pulled up to her chin. Her eyelashes, an inky black, contrasted her icy, pale skin. Some color had returned to her face since the last time Steve had seen her, and although her face was still much too thin and blindingly white, a faint, rosy tint graced her cheeks. A breathing apparatus covered her nose and mouth, and an IV drip went into one arm. She was also attached to heart monitor. If it weren't for all the tubes and wires, Steve would be able to believe that she was just asleep.

For a few moments he stared at her, barely registering the pricking sensation in the corner of his eyes. She looked incredibly beautiful, even buried underneath all the medical equipment. A tear dripped down his cheek. Startled, Steve wiped it away, making his way over to a chair situated by the wall. His stomach was still doing flip flops as he sat in the seat, clenching the arm rests.

"Hi, Peggy." He said softly, feeling a bit foolish. "Sorry I'm late. I don't know if you can hear me- or if you could, if you would even remember me- I just..." he let the sentence trail off, swallowing the lump in his throat. "You've been asleep for a long time. I hope you can wake up soon. I'll be here when you do." He let the sentence trail off and stared blankly at the wall. Talking had eased the knot of tension in his stomach, and his perception was returning. Something about the location was making the hair on the back of his neck stand up, Everything in this room seemed so solid. There were no windows, which struck Steve as odd. The bed was bolted to the floor, as were the heart monitor and IV drip. Then, as Peggy suddenly shifted, as if caught in the throes of a nightmare, the thick white cuffs on her wrists became visible to Steve.

Steve was suddenly filled with hot fury.

"What did they do to you?" He demanded, flying to his feet. The might have found her in a HYDRA base, but she was no criminal.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he slipped his hand down around her wrist. His pulse was racing as he brushed her cool skin, getting a firm grip on the cuff. He gave the restrain a hard yank, hoping to snap the chain holding her to the bed, but nothing happened. Frustrated, he tried it a second time, with the same result. Whatever material the cuffs had been fashioned out of was stronger than he was. He suddenly realized how tightly he was gripping Peggy's wrist inside the cuff, and dropped it, terrified that he had hurt her.

Defeated, he slumped back against the wall. Something sketchy was going on. He took his phone out of his back pocket and turned it on. In spite of Tony's insistence that he should really just buy an iPhone 'like everyone else in America', Steve had settled instead on Nokia 3310. He hadn't quite been able to finesse one of the classic models; Tony's peer pressure led him to purchase the revamped 2017 version. But it was still durable as all hell, and he could play Snake.

Steve's fingers flew as he typed out a quick message to Natasha. _Hey, what level is your security clearance?_

Her response was swift. _We're A1, top class clearance for Avengers intel and case by case for SHIELD projects. Why?_

 _Just wondering._

Natasha didn't say anything. Steve pondered this tidbit. SHIELD didn't want the Avengers to see Peggy.

He ran his fingers through his hair, and was about to start a game of Snake when the door opened with a loud hiss. Steve jumped to his feet, expecting the worst, but then Tony strolled in.

"Cap?" Tony asked, a confused expression on his face.

"Tony? What the hell are you doing here?" Steve's brow furrowed.

Tony was caught off guard. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed, which he probably had. His wrinkled shirt paired nicely with the bags under his eyes. He had a small black notebook in his hand.

"I could ask you the same thing. The nurse said the room was empty." He looked from Steve out into the hallway, as if debating on calling for help.

"Shhh! They don't- I had to sneak in." He showed Tony Phil's badge. His brow furrowed as he stared at the smaller man. "How did you get in? I didn't have clearance."

Tony smirked. "Oh, please. I have free reign over anything and everything here. Fury just scares me." He stretched in a leisurely way, overtaken by a giant yawn. He had definitely just woken up.

"Could you get me clearance?" Steve asked, unimpressed.

"Doesn't seem like you need it, Captain Sneaky-pants." He nodded at Peggy. "Is the one you 'had a date with' before you crashed into the ocean like a dumbass?"

"Yes." Steve mumbled. "Never really thought I'd get a second chance." He looked down at his hands. "Thought she might appreciate seeing someone she knows when she wakes up. Speaking of which, remind me why the hell you're here?"

Tony snorted. "Language! They didn't teach you to swear like that in the Boy Scouts!"

Steve rolled his eyes.

Tony noted his lack of amusement.

"Okay, she knew my dad. Intimately." He held up the notebook. "He mentioned her a lot in his notes. Although I actually didn't read any of them. Pepper did, though. She said they were close. I think my dad might have been in love with her or something." The billionaire rolled his eyes. "Of course, my dad was head over heels for anything in a skirt that looked at him twice."

"Like father like son, I guess." Steve remarked calmly, taking a dig at his friend's playboy past. The situation suddenly made more sense. Peggy was probably one of Tony's last links to his father.

"I'm working on getting SHIELD to release her back into Avenger's custody." Tony informed him, looking Peggy over dubiously.

"She's still healing, Tony. And what's all this about custody? I was told that she isn't a prisoner." He felt himself starting to get angry again.

"Relax, Capcicle. I don't know what kind of game SHIELD is playing but they told me that as soon as she's stable and awake, she's free to come with us. You know SHIELD, they always have some angle. They probably didn't want you too clued in on whatever game they're playing." Tony brushed Steve off and glanced at the door.

"You think she's part of some elaborate SHIELD plot?" Steve crossed his arms. "What gave it away, the three inch thick secure metal door? Or the fashionable little handcuffs they have her in?"

"Wow, imagine that. Captain Capitalism learned how to use modern sarcasm! And yet- the coffee maker is still a bit too hard to decipher." Tony crossed his arms.

"Don't snap at me, Snark- I mean, Stark." Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm just worried about her."

"She'll be fine." Tony shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. I should probably be going, though. No need to sit here and watch her sleep." He edged toward the door.

Steve nodded, formulating a response, but Tony was already gone. He should probably go as well, before someone had to drag him out by the hair.

"Goodbye, Peggy. I'll be able to come back soon, I hope." He bit his lip. It felt like it was too soon to leave, but he didn't want to push his luck. She looked like she was okay, at least. That would have to be enough to carry him until he got to see her again.

Resolutely, he turned to leave, glancing over his shoulder one last time before stepping out the door.

Tony called him the next day to say that he got Steve's issue figured out. It had been a bunch of bureaucracy bullshit, but the captain should be able to visit once in a while. The best Tony had been able to do was a limited visitation pass, but Steve was ecstatic none the less.

From there out, Steve spent much of his free time in the hospital ward. If he wasn't begging Dr. Wilson to give him as much information about her condition as he could, then he was either reading in the waiting room or visiting her. He had taken to researching and tracking Bucky at his spot in the corner of the waiting area.

Thanks to Nat and Clint, Steve was able to compile SHEILD sightings with his own research. He was hot on Bucky's trail now. He had last been spotted squatting in an abandoned building just outside of the Bronx. Steve had tracked Bucky's path from the night he killed the SHEILD council members up until the past week, where the trail suddenly went cold. He had visited the abandoned building on his own, but found no clues to the whereabouts of his old friend. But he knew SHIELD was also hot on Bucky's ass. Steve needed to get their first, and they had to stop Barnes before he killed again.

Sometimes when he visited Peggy he would read things out loud to her, half hoping she would react to his voice. Sometimes he talked to her, and told her about his day. Other times, he would come in from another senseless mission and collapse in his chair for a long, uncomfortable nap while his cuts, bruises, and sometimes broken bones knit themselves back together. The doctors and nurses slowly grew to like Steve, and he began to receive regular updates on Peggy's condition. Dr. Wilson, the head doc assigned to her case, was already an acquaintance of Steve's. He was very reassuring, and some of Steve's worry faded each time he talked to the man.

Two weeks into the routine, Steve found himself sitting in his usual chair, reading an encrypted email from Clint about Bucky. Apparently the former howling commando had been on the move. He had been spotted entering a small corner store in Queens. Steve was waiting for the photo to load so that he could positively ID Bucky and piece together his location when Wilson interrupted his research, pulling him into the hallway.

"Good morning, Steve! We have good news for you today. Miss Carter's head injuries have fully healed. We're ready to wake her up. We're taking her off the medication as we speak, but we don't know for sure when she will wake up. Sometime in the next 48 hours."

Steve suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. "two days?"

Wilson nodded. "Give or take. Superhuman medicine isn't really the most exact science."

Steve forced out a laugh. He suddenly felt like floating. She was okay.

"This doesn't seem real." He felt himself break out into a weird, nervous grin.

Wilson gave a hearty chuckle and patted Steve on the shoulder. "Trust me, it's real. And everything is going to be fine. Feel free to finish your visit and then hang out in the waiting room. You're on our list of people to notify when she wakes up, we'll make sure you see her as soon as it happens."

Barely able to contain himself, Steve gave a gleeful nod and headed back into Peggy's room, brushing past a nurse as he entered. She was carrying vials of blood and gave Steve a furtive glance before darting off to the nurses station. Ignoring her, Steve sidled into the room. Even though he knew he would barely be able to concentrate, he still wanted to try and get a little work done on the Bucky case. He had left his laptop open on his chair when he went out to chat with Wilson, and he picked up the thin computer with much care. A fancy phone may not have been on Steve's agenda, but he had taken to using his laptop almost instantly. There was something almost natural about using the machine. He was no pro, but he understood the internet well enough to operate youtube, manage his email, and google search things that he had questions about. And he was pretty sure that the email he had been reading before he left Peggy's room should not have spontaneously disappeared. In disbelief, he scrolled through his inbox, searching for the message from Clint. He was astonished to realize that almost every email in his inbox had been deleted, and the trash had been cleared out. All that was left were subscription notification emails from Youtube. He must have accidentally cleared his inbox somehow when he closed the laptop. The only other person who had been in the room was solidly unconscious. Unless, of course- well, there was the nurse to consider.

 _That's crazy._ Steve thought to himself. _There's no reason that a nurse would rifle through my emails and delete them at random. Of course, they weren't randomly deleted- they left the ones without any mention of Bucky-_

Suddenly the door hissed open, startling Steve out of his stupor.

"Stark. What are you doing here?"

"Howdy." Tony took off his dark sunglasses, blinking in the bright light. "Whew. Bit bright in here. Wilson told me they were waking her up."

Steve shot him an annoyed look. "Yeah. Don't let your daddy issues make this harder on her."

Tony faked a theatrical gasp. "Isn't the term 'daddy issues' a bit too modern to be in your vocabulary?"

"Well, I work with half a dozen people led by a man with the maturity of a poorly behaved five year old, so I guess I stay young." Steve crossed his arms and leaned back into his seat. He half hoped Tony wouldn't stick around for too long.

"Watching YouTube again?" The smaller man nodded at Steve's laptop, folding his sunglasses up and placing them delicately in his pocket.

"Yep." Actually, I watched a half decent documentary on there last week. Did you know that the CIA killed John F Kennedy? Why don't more people know that? Lee Harvey Oswald wasn't working alone-"

"Steve, haven't you ever heard of a conspiracy theory?" Tony rolled his eyes.

"No, really!" Steve protested earnestly. "That's what I thought, but when I asked Natasha, she gave me the names-"

"That's nice." Tony said dismissively, producing his dad's notebook out of thin air. "Listen, I almost forgot to tell you, but I've been reading through Hpward's notes about Peggy, trying to understand how she got stuck with Hydra in the first place."

Steve suddenly forgot all about JFK. "Oh, really?! What did you find out?"

Tony thumbed through the pages of the diary. "Well, to start with. he a few pages of notes written about her, but they're all torn up and ruined. The only thing i could read was "Today Pegs got mad at me and accidentally squeezed a bottle so hard that it shattered. Cut her hand up pretty bad. But by the time i was able to help her wipe the blood away, it looked like the cut was only a tiny nick.'"

Steve chuckled slightly. "That sounds about right."

"Do you- do you understand how much strength it takes to break a fucking bottle by squeezing it?" Tony's eyes were practically glowing. He hadn't looked so excited by a discovery since he built Ultron.

"Hey, watch your language, " Steve scolded. "Howard was probably just exaggerating. He was known to be a bit dramatic."

"Okay, but that isn't everything! Someone went through and tore most of the rest of the pages in that section out. I don't know for sure what they were, but I assume they were more pages about her. Here, take a look." He handed Steve the notebook.

The Captain turned the delicate pages carefully. The journal was ancient, and its weathered paper felt like it might dissolve under his fingertips. He carefully examined the torn scraps and the destroyed work. There were approximately twelve pages missing completely, and the rest of them were so mangled that Steve could only catch a word here and there. He carefully looked at one section, picking out the word 'Winchester'. In another section, he saw the word Hydra. A few places he could see his own name, and in others, he could see Peggy's, but nothing more than that.

"He wrote some about you in the back. But it's wrecked too. It's like he was protecting his work or something." Tony shrugged. "I don't know why he didn't just burn the whole thing."

"Is there anything in here that's actually legible? Besides that one entry?" Steve was flipping through the remaining pages with interest now. There were a few intact pages containing scribbles of inventions, lists of drinks that he liked and didn't like- and a whole sheet filled with nothing but women's names. He felt his heart skip a beat when he caught Peggy's name, scribbled in Howard's sloppy scrawl, towards the bottom of the list . Biting his lip, he closed the book and passed it back to Tony.

"I think my dad used to keep this notebook around for thoughts that suddenly popped into his head. I do the same thing with my phone's notes whenever an idea hits me." Tony shrugged. "The important part is the letter, though." He began leafing through the pages, looking for something specific.

"Here it is!" He exclaimed after a second, holding the book with one hand and reading aloud from the page. "Furthermore, I'm terribly sorry. For the purposes of classifying information, I am afraid that I was unable to inform the authorities of Miss Carter's true cause of disappearance. See, we undertook an unauthorized investigation into a Hydra base, and things began to go wrong as soon as we got there." Tony looked up from the writing. "The rest of the page is water damaged and the ink is completely smeared."

Steve considered this new information carefully. "So she was helping Howard with a few things when all this happened?" He clenched his fist, highly irritated. "If he was still alive, I'd kick his ass."

"I would too." Tony suddenly spaced out, a weird look on his face. The ringing of Steve's phone startled him out of his reverie, and suddenly both men were looking around for the source of the noise. Steve spotted it first: he had dropped on the ground by his laptop case. However, Tony was faster. He scooped up the small device and flipped it open, answering the call.

"Hello, this is your Captain speaking," Tony smirked at Steve, but passed him the phone a second later. "It's for you."

"Yeah, it's my phone," he said in annoyance, snatching it from Tony's hands. He hated when Stark did that.

"Rogers. It's me." The voice on the phone was cool and calm, and Steve recognized her immediately.

"Nat. What's the situation?"

"It's about Barnes. I can't say much more, only that its urgent. Get your ass over here immediately." The assassin spoke rapidly, but every word was clear. Bucky was in danger. She hung up the phone without giving him a chance to respond.

"Bucky?" Tony asked as Steve shut the phone, looking uncertainly from Peggy to the door. Stark had not been an active participant in Steve's side quest for legal reasons, but he was aware of the situation and had agreed to lend a hand whenever possible.

"I have to leave." He didn't want to go, but he knew that he had to help his friend. Peggy was safe here. His jaw set in determination as he started packing up his things. "Visiting hours are almost over anyway."

"I'll wait here. I'll let you know if she wakes up." Tony smiled slightly at him. "Help Bucky. It's always bros before hoes."

Steve gave him the dirtiest look that he could muster. "Thanks for that. I couldn't think of anything in the world I would have rather heard you say than those words. " He got to his feet and stretched, throwing a glance across his shoulder at Peggy before heading to the door. "I'll catch you later, Stark."

"Roger that, Rogers." Tony gave him a half assed salute- with his LEFT hand, no less- and Steve took that as his cue to leave, heading out of the hospital and off to meet with Natasha.


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note:** Hey there again! This is the second garbage chapter that I wrote as a filler before I decided to get my act together and actually make it nice! Hopefully the next chapter is better! I HAte EVeRythInG i wRIte! :))))

Anyway, I apologize for taking such a long time to get things posted and continue the story, as I just began college and have been going through a lot with all that. Part of what takes me so long is editing. I find it exhausting to repeatedly go over the same thing, and I always miss my mistakes. If any of you awesome folks are interested in helping me proofread, PLEASE let me know! Just shoot me a message! It's always nice to have a different set of eyes look things over before they are posted. Anyway, thanks again for being amazing!

\- Claire :)

 **Chapter 5: Seventy Years Asleep**

The sign for the Stork Club cut through the thick Manhattan fog, a blue neon light shining even through the haze. Peggy picked her way down the sidewalk, dodging the puddles laying on the concrete. As she approached the club, she could see the warm glow from inside cutting through the mist. For some reason, it didn't seem odd to her that the bouncer was missing. She stepped inside the doors, and suddenly she was assaulted by a wave of noise. People were chattering, waiters bustled back and forth, loud music played from the band. Forget VE Day, it was VE-week: the war had just been officially won. New York was a party. Crowds flocked the streets all day, waving flags and throwing confetti. Headlines had declared their triumphant victory. Inside the club, she could see men in uniform, reunited with their girlfriends and wives for the first time.

Her eyes picked through the crowd before settling on a familiar, broad set of shoulders. He had his back to her, but there was no mistaking who it was. Her heart thumped wildly as he turned his head- time seemed to slow down as his blue eyes met hers.

The crowd, the music- it was all suddenly gone.

Steve. He was sitting at the front table, drink in hand. He was dressed in his uniform, hair carefully combed into place. He looked handsome as ever as he sipped his drink, watching her cross the room before he stood up. She didn't say anything as she approached. Her mind was blank. She stopped in front of him, fumbling for words. Before she could speak, his arms were around her, and it didn't matter anyway. He lifted her up in a hug and spun her around as if he were as light as a feather. She tried to stifle her laughter, but joyfully threw her arms around his neck.

"Sorry I'm late." He said breathlessly, setting her down on her feet. "It was hard to catch a ride." His eyes twinkled in the dim light of the club, and his hands on her waist felt warm and solid. This was how everything was supposed to be.

"Shush. Just dance with me, Steve." Peggy fought to keep her voice level as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She had waited on this for so long. Steve smiled at her again and took her hand.

"You can't give me orders." He told her playfully, leading her towards the dance floor.

"I believe I just did." She shot back, grateful that the lump in her throat was easing up. Butterflies explode in her stomach as he twirled her into an embrace, pulling her against him.

"Alright then, boss," He whispered in her ear, sending a pleasant tingle down her spine. "Let's dance."

The pair began to dance, oblivious to anything else in the crowded club. In spite of Steve's alleged inexperience, he had a natural knack for dancing. His every move was smooth and controlled, and the feeling of him pressed against her was eliciting a very specific type of feeling in the pit of her stomach. All she could think of was how badly she wanted to kiss him. One song faded to another, but they barely noticed. Almost as if he could read her mind, he released her hand, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

"You look beautiful, by the way," he said softly, tilting her face up towards him. She felt her breath catch as he finally leaned in for a kiss.

The instant that his mouth touched hers, she had to fight back a scream. He lips were like ice. The fingers touching her face dug into her skin like icicle daggers. She struggled to get away from him.

"Steve! Let go of me, what's happening?" She tried to pull out of his grip, but the hand that he had wrapped around her waist felt like iron. His mouth opened wide in a scream, contorting his face into a horrific expression of pain. His eyes were dead and cold. Bluish flakes of frost began to form on his face, and then spread down over his chest, growing like a horrific infection.

Peggy could feel the panic hammering in her chest and twisted in his grip. He was so cold. There was a loud cracking sound as Steve's arm shattered into dozens of ice shards. She felt herself start to scream, but no sound was coming out. Cracks traveled up over his shoulder and through his chest, and his expression turned into a hideous grimace. Chunks of ice fell from his neck, and then suddenly his whole body shattered. Steve was gone. All that remained was a fine, icy powder, swirling in the cold air.

Peggy turned away from the breeze, goosebumps wracking her body. She was shaking, trying to remember how to breathe. She was freezing. Every inhalation felt like her lungs were on fire. Then, without warning, someone tapped her shoulder and she jumped, whipping around to face them. Peggy found herself eye to eye with Howard Stark.

The horror of what she had just seen began to fade away as she realized she was in his penthouse. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and the large bed across from it was empty. It's silk sheets looked welcoming and familiar. She was sitting by the window, wrapped in a silky robe that she didn't remember putting on.

"Hey Pegs." Her friend placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and she felt the goosebumps return to her arms. "Come back to bed."

"Give me a moment." She gazed out the window, ignoring the nagging feeling that something was wrong. She had just been with Steve. Something was wrong with him. They had been dancing, and then- she opened her mouth to tell Howard that something was going on, but her mouth wouldn't move. She could only stare out the window.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" Howard whispered, his breath hot on her ear, and she felt her stomach do a nervous flip flop. This wasn't right- this wasn't how it was supposed to go. She tried to move away from him, but she found herself unable to move. Her limbs felt like stone. A wave of revolt washed over her, and she shuddered uncontrollably.

"You look uncomfortable." That wasn't Howard speaking. A different voice was in her ear now, this one thick with a German accent. The penthouse was gone- had she been in the penthouse? Now she was strapped to a cold metal table. There were tubes running into her arms, and a series of electrode looking devices on her calves. The same things were on her temples, and someone had placed a thick mask over the lower half of her face. Discomfort had given way to hot fear, burning in the back of her throat. She was no longer sure if it was the cold metal table or pure terror that was making her shiver inside her bonds.

"We should really thank you for your help, Carter. We never could have done this without you." Her assailant came into view, his generically handsome face marred by a large scar running down his left cheek. She struggled for his name, unable to remember who he was. A large crimson Hydra sign was shimmering on the wall behind him. A Soviet Union bastard. He disappeared from view and she could hear him rattling around in the background. There was a loud clicking sound, followed by the whir of some device powering up. Seconds ticked by as Peggy braced herself for whatever was about to come. Time flowed like molasses.

And then it hit her. The burning sensation of ice inside her veins. She grit her teeth, trying not to giver her tormentor any satisfaction. The sensation was like needles forming inside of her body, stabbing tiny pinpricks of pain into every nerve at once. The blonde scientist grinned at her. Behind him, as if there was a window looking into another room, she could see a man lying on a table very similar to the one she was strapped to. She focused on him, trying to pull herself out of her own head. The only detail she could really make out was a glint of metal on the man's arm. She knew him, she knew that she did. But all the names were gone from her mind- just out of reach. And then, even that thought was wrenched from herded as her world exploded into pain; a hot, red feeling. This time she screamed for real.

Everything was too bright. Her head felt fuzzy and heavy. The restraints were gone, the table was gone. Something was stabbing her arm. Without stopping to think, Peggy exploded on the Hydra bastard trying to inject her with more of their chemistry experiments. Thankfully, her hands still worked. She felt her fingers tingle as she grabbed the scientist by the throat and slammed his face into the metal bedrail. Twice.

And then, something clicked. A bedrail? She hadn't been attacking a Hydra scientist. It was a scared looking woman in some kind of strange pajama outfit. .The woman's nose was bleeding, and there was a bruise already forming on her throat. A puddle of blood was spreading on the floor, and Peggy was momentarily horrified until she realized that it was likely her own blood- spilled from the vials that the nurse had dropped when she was assaulted. A needle and tubing were still jammed into the crease of Peggy's arm. She jerked them out with a quick motion, pressing two fingers over the prick and waiting for the bleeding to stop. The woman regarded Peggy with wide, scared eyes. She produced a small black box out of one of her pockets. Peggy blinked hard as the woman spoke a line of rapid fire Russian into the box. Some kind of walkie talkie.

"Where the hell am I?" Peggy demanded, sitting up. She could already tell that she was far from home. The room was very secure- a heavy steel door appeared to be the only exit. There were no windows. She was wearing some kind of thin, plastic-y nightgown. The lady, who Peggy had concluded was some kind of nurse, backed into the corner as far away from Peggy as she could. At first, she thought the woman looked afraid. But there was a look in her eyes; Peggy almost thought she was imagining it. The woman wasn't scared, she was furious. She was holding herself back, not running away.

"Please, Miss. This is a bloody misunderstanding, I don't know where I am." Peggy tried again, hoping to get some information about her whereabouts before she tried to make an escape.

"Hospital, Miss Carter." The nurse said coldly, through clenched teeth. "Don't worry, you're going to be taken care of."

As if on cue, the door of the room burst open, and two large orderlies rushed in. Peggy was all but tackled, held down against the bed as thick white cuffs were slapped onto her wrists. She was in a strange place, she had just attacked someone, and she was now effectively a prisoner again. She felt a sharp pinch in her arm, and tried to pull away, but the nurse held her arm in place. Everything was starting to fade and become blurry, and she was having trouble staying focused. Her body felt heavy, but her head was floating.

 _So much for an escape,_ she thought, as her eyelids grew heavy.. She tried to fight it, but the last thing she realized as she drifted back to sleep was that someone was drawing her blood again.

Usually, sleep was a very easy thing for Peggy Carter to embrace. She could nap on any available surface, be it her desk, an airplane, a train car, even during a long shootout with some German muscle. But now, sleep was no longer her friend. It tormented her with a never-ending loop of nightmares, one terror after another, on replay. Stretches of quiet sleep were rare, and pleasant dream were even more scarce.

This time, she was back in the dark. A familiar nightmare. Nothing but blackness and the sound of her own breathing. She couldn't move. All she could do was lay in the blackness and breathe, slow, controlled breaths. Her cell was small. Panic was what they wanted. So she stayed calm, even though the blackness was pressing against her, suffocating her- she embraced it. Her mind was completely calm as the minutes stretched into hours for what felt like eternity. And then, out of nowhere, blinding light spilled into the space.

"Get up." A familiar voice demanded. A hand reached out of the light. Blinking owlishly in the brightness, she found herself looking into the familiar face of Steve's friend Bucky. "We have to get out of here. can you walk?"

Peggy accepted his hand, standing and brushing herself off. Barnes looked to be in worse shape than she did. He was missing an arm, the sleeve of his tattered uniform hung, empty. His hair had grown out, ragged and unkempt. A scruffy beard was starting on his cheeks. Peggy did her best not to stare, even though she was looking at a dead man. He turned on his heels and started down the hallway, handing her a gun as they walked.

"I can't use it." He explained gruffly, gesturing to his missing arm. "I mean, I can, but I'm not used to it. So it isn't good."

Peggy checked the clip. Four shots. Not a lot to work with.

"Do we have a plan?" She asked, keeping up with his long strides as they headed down the bleak, grey hallway.

"Don't get killed." He answered, suddenly stopping. He froze in the middle of the hallway, resembling a dog who suddenly caught a whiff of a squirrel.

"Get down!" He exclaimed, grabbing her arm as he hit the floor. Peggy dropped with him. As soon as they hit the ground, gunfire erupted. Bullets whizzed overhead as a guard sprayed a panicky round of shots over their head. He had come around the corner and panicked. As his gunfire ceased, the shaky young man scrambled to reload his weapon. Peggy knew they wouldn't be as lucky if he managed to get off more shots. Adrenaline buzzed through her as she raised the pistol, squeezing off a single shot. The guard, barely more than a boy, collapsed to the ground. Her shot had caught him right in the leg.

"Other way, quick! Before he keeps shooting!"

Peggy didn't think that it was likely, but she followed Barnes as he turned around, racing back towards the cell he had just broken her out of.

"Do you actually know where we're going?" She exclaimed as he picked the pace up to a sprint. She fell a few steps behind him, gun warm against her palm.

"I do now."

That wasn't a reassuring answer, but it was something. Peggy felt her pace pick up as she caught the sound of footsteps coming from behind her. "Barnes, they're coming."

"We're almost there!" He assured her as they raced past the box where she had been kept. They took a left, into a part of a base where Peggy had never been before. There were numerous doors, and Bucky stopped in front of one. The door was locked.

"Shit." He muttered, frantically grabbing at the doorknob with his single hand. "Shit, shit."

Peggy felt her heart start to race as the footsteps behind them grew louder. She pushed him out of the way without saying a word. Her palm was sweaty as she lifted the gun and pointed it at the lock, but her hand didn't shake at all. One shot was all it took. The lock exploded, and the door swung open. The pair scrambled inside. Two large windows took up the back wall of the room, making it obvious as to why Barnes had chosen it. Various medical equipment was scattered in the room, its sinister implications giving Peggy a sick feeling in her stomach. Frantic discussion in Russian, paired with heavy boot steps, echoed down the hallway. Peggy sprinted towards the window and threw herself elbow first into the glass, crashing through the pane. She landed outside in the snow, barely feeling the damage of slamming through the glass. Barnes followed her lead, landing in the drift to her left. The fence was less than ten feet away. Behind it was a thick evergreen forest. If they could just make it to the fence, the snow would thin and it would be easier to lose their pursuers. Peggy began wading through the waist deep snow, teeth chattering. It was better to die of hypothermia out here than inside that damned compound. Barnes was hot on her heels. They just had to make it to the fence.

"Halt!"

A warning shot hit the snow several feet away from her. The pair slowed their trekking through the snow, and Peggy's heart sank as she realized what had happened. They were surrounded. The guards had been waiting for them. They materialized out of nowhere, as if emerging from the snow itself. There had to be at least six men. They closed in on their prey, guns locked on the escapees. Peggy felt Barnes take a step towards her, so that they were standing back to back.

"Well, let's make it count." Peggy whispered to Barnes, knowing that they had failed. They may not be able to get out, but they would at least raise a little hell first. As the first guard finally came within range, Peggy swung at him, catching him on the lip and knocking him backwards. A shot hit the ground beside her, sending up a puff of powdery snow.

"Don't shoot!" One of the agents roared. "Barnes is too valuable!"

Someone grabbed Peggy while she was distracted, wrapping a burly arm around her neck. She gasped for air, stomping on his foot as hard as she could. His grip loosened slightly, and she drove her elbow into his ribs. Her assailant released her completely, but before she could process her actions, she spun around and put one shot right into his temple. She ignored the wave of nausea that rolled over her as he dropped into the snow. She only had one shot left now.

"Peggy!"

She spun around as Barnes yelled out her name, He could usually hold his own, but three agents had swarmed him while she was fighting. One guard had a tight hold on his arm. Bucky struggled in the man's grip, lashing out with his legs. One of the other agents dealt him a blow to the stomach, and Barnes doubled over, coughing. The second agent decided to help, landing a kick in the kidneys. Barnes let out a grunt of agony as the blows continued. Blood splattered onto the white snow. Feebly, Bucky raised his head to lock eyes with Peggy.

"Shoot me." He ordered, crystal clear. Blood trickled out the side of his mouth. His eyes were blazing, and she knew he was serious. He would rather die than go back in there. Only one shot left. Peggy raised the pistol, feeling as though she was dragging her arm through thick molasses. She trained the gun on Bucky, knowing that she wouldn't miss. She also knew that without him, she was expendable. They would put her down where she was standing. One shot was all it would take, and they were both done. No time to hesitate. Her finger curled around the trigger, and she squeezed.

click.

Nothing happened. The gun was jammed. An agent slammed into Peggy before she could try again, sending the weapon flying out of her hand.

"Shoot me! Goddammit! Don't let them take me back! Please, I don't want to go back in!" Bucky was screaming now. His voice sounded raw and scared, and Peggy felt chills go down her spine. She had let him down. She failed both of them. The man who had tackled her was placing her in handcuffs. She felt the cold metal snap around her wrists, and she yanked hard. The guard was grabbing her shoulder, forcing her down. His fingers were digging into her. She had to get free. She yanked on the cuffs even harder.

Someone was touching her. Her wrists were cuffed. One final tug- she felt the metal snap. A man was looming over her. She raked her fingers across his face, seeing his flesh tear. The scratches glowed bright red. She was screaming, but she barely even noticed.

He wasn't a guard. She wasn't in the middle of a failed escape with Bucky. She didn't know where she was. The man was wearing a doctor's coat of some sort. Everything was too bright. The light hurt her eyes. She felt like she was hungover. The man she had scratched was hanging back from the table.

"She must be processing the drugs too quickly. Increase the dosage."

Peggy wanted to sit up and make a break for it, but her legs were so heavy. Everything felt so heavy. She leaned back into her pillow, too tired to fight as a new bout of drugs swept over her system. She felt someone replace her restraints, and she briefly wondered if the new ones would be any stronger. Before she drifted off entirely, she heard the doctor's voice again.

"We'll have to keep her out for at least another week to ensure that we have appropriate-"

The end of his sentence faded away as she found herself in the middle of a pleasant dream. She was at the beach, with her roommate. She had moved in with the girl when the war ended. The pair were enjoying the sun, chatting about the lifeguard, and enjoying the sun. It was refreshing, until dream Peggy took a trip to the changing room, and the dream itself changed- shifting back into the nightmare about Barnes. Stifling darkness took over as the nightmare started from the top.

And so, the pattern continued.

She was in the middle of a terrifying dream involving the gruesome deaths of the Howling Commandoes when she felt something start to shift. The horrifying images of her friends faded away into a nondescript whiteness. For a moment, she thought maybe she had died.

Then, her eyes snapped open and she found herself in the same room as the last time she had woken up. The lights were just as blinding as before, and her mouth was incredibly dry. She tried to sit up, but found that she was still shackled to the bed, and the restraints would not permit it. She gave them an experimental tug before deciding that it wasn't worth it. She closed her eyes, trying to find relief from the brightness, only to open them again when she heard the door open. She lifted her head enough to identify the doctor that she had scratched, flanked by two unfamiliar nurses.

"Good morning, Miss Carter." The doctor greeted her with fake cheerfulness, as his assistants approached the bed. The nurses, one male and one female, began undoing her shackles. "I'm Dr. Wilson. How are you feeling today?"

"Where in the bloody hell am I?" She demanded, rubbing her wrists as they were freed. Everything about the situation felt surreal. She was fairly certain that she had assaulted at least two staff members, so what the hell was the warm welcome all about?

"You're in the hospital, of course. A few of our team members found you inside of a Hydra facility and brought you here to recover."

Peggy listened incredulously as the doctor told her the whole story. She had been recovered by a team and brought to the hospital to thaw. Twice she had woken, acting erratically, and had been restrained out of safety concerns. Fortunately, they had been able to pull her out of sleep gently this time. She would need to take time to speak to their psychiatrists and explain what had happened before she was frozen.

"How long was I out?" She asked hesitantly as he finished his speech. She figured it had been five years, judging by the differences in the nurse's clothing, hairstyles, and makeup. A long time to catch up on, she figured, but it wouldn't be so bad. She was going to rip Howard a new one for leaving her to rot for so long.

The doctor, Wilson, offered her a slightly pained smile.

"Miss Cater, are you sure-"

Peggy felt her chest tighten when she saw the look in his eyes.

"How long?"

"The year is 2016." He said softly, like it hurt for him to say it.

Peggy felt as if she had been slapped. She had been asleep for _seventy_ fucking years.


End file.
